


What's Set in Stone

by galaxy_witch



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gladiators, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Ancient History, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Gladiators, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rating May Change, Tags May Change, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-05-28 18:21:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15055040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxy_witch/pseuds/galaxy_witch
Summary: Iwaizumi hadn’t lost a match yet. Not during practice or in the arena, and a lot of the other gladiators resented him for his skill. The opinions of others didn’t matter, though. He fought hard and gained popularity all while upholding a respectable image.In nearly a month’s time, the fortune he had accumulated after years of combat would be enough to finally leave the city and make a life for himself elsewhere.That is, until he met Oikawa Tooru.





	1. false start

**Author's Note:**

> WOW okay hello all! I'm so excited to be posting the first chapter of this story. This is an AU that I've been thinking about/working on for months now (I took 2 classes on ancient Rome last semester and accumulated too many ideas, haha) and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I have about 8 chapters planned out, but the chapter count may change. I'll also try my best to update once a week! Also, tags will be added as the story progresses, and I will have warnings at the beginning of the chapter if I believe there is any sensitive content! I will say that this story will eventually get violent, so check back for when those tags are added!

His opponent laid flat on the ground while the wooden sword was discarded ten feet away.  

It was Iwaizumi’s fourth practice match of the day on top of their conditioning. Most of the other fighters would have probably felt fatigued by now, but Iwaizumi was far from ordinary.

He pushed his mask up so that he could wipe at the sweat pooled across his cheeks and brows. Iwaizumi then outstretched a hand to the man lying in the dirt, a typical form of courtesy, and the defeated accepted the gesture with an honorable reluctance.

Iwaizumi hadn’t lost a match yet. Not during practice or in the arena, and a lot of the other gladiators resented him for his skill. The opinions of others didn’t matter, though. He fought hard and gained popularity among elites and lower-class civilians both, and he did so all while upholding a respectable image.

In nearly a month’s time, the fortune he had accumulated after years of combat would be enough to finally leave the city and make a life for himself elsewhere.

Iwaizumi’s last challenger of the day soon approached, and he couldn’t help but notice his opponents hesitant stride into the practice ring. The opponent was not much taller him, but he was much more slender. Iwaizumi sized him up and noticed that his smooth skin was clean and bruise free. His awkward hold on the sword didn’t communicate warrior to Iwaizumi, but he figured it was not wise to make assumptions right before battle, even if it was just practice.

The man was probably a new-comer in the gladiatorial school, which meant that this match would be an easy one.

The two got into their defensive stance before the referee called for the fight to start. When the signal was given, Iwaizumi did not hesitate to advance on his opponent. The other gladiator did not advance; rather he backed away and hid himself behind his shield.

Iwaizumi lifted his own shield up and crashed it against his opponent. The sheer force of the blow sent the defensive gladiator onto his back.

Not only was this guy new, but he seemed as if he wasn’t even trying.

Iwaizumi then effortlessly trapped the man where he lay on the ground, knees holding the smaller frame in place. He then stabbed his sword into the dirt just an inch shy of his opponent’s neck, which would have been an easy yet bloody kill in the arena. He had won again, and he had won in record time.

Iwaizumi stood and looked down at the defeated man, who pulled his helmet off and threw it to the side. His shaggy brown hair stuck to the sides of his face, and the expression in his eyes was a mix of confusion and awe.

Iwaizumi then shed himself of his own helmet. As he did, he extended his other hand and the defeated opponent quickly took it.

When the man stood up, he flashed Iwaizumi a smile that was entirely too wide.

“Thank you!” the opponent sang.

He had never gotten a _thank you_ , and Iwaizumi wanted to laugh in the face of the man’s unnecessary glee.

Instead, Iwaizumi just nodded and turned away.

He didn’t expect his last practice battle of the day to be so anticlimactic, but it was refreshing to have such an easy end to a long day of training.

He walked to the side of the arena where the rest of the gladiators stood to watch the last of the matches. He then stripped himself of his armor and grabbed a wet towel from the old bucket on the ground. Two new men took to the ring and Iwaizumi was preoccupied with wiping at the dirt and sweat around his eyes. He didn’t even notice someone approach silently behind him.

“That was a great match!” Iwaizumi flinched and turned at the sudden presence of a voice behind him. The opponent that he had just defeated moments ago was standing too close behind him, looking happier than he should have been after a defeat.

“Uh,” Iwaizumi hesitated. He wouldn’t call the match _great_. “Not too good for you though.”

“You took me down quick this time, but next match I wouldn’t be so confident,” the man said, hands on his hips, looking foolishly proud. Iwaizumi really thought he’d laugh in this guy’s face now.

“Don’t be so sure of yourself,” Iwaizumi scoffed.

“What, you don’t think I can take down a big guy like you?” He was testing Iwaizumi, and he was amazed at the man’s overconfident energy.

“Not a chance. You’re way too slender.”

The man gasped. “Don’t be so rude! It’s impolite to insult someone when you first meet!”

Iwaizumi had never traded more than a few short words with any of the other gladiators. All the men were civil with one another, but no one ever truly made significant connections. There was no reason to when half the men would probably die in the arena anyway.

The new guy was absolutely testing his patience.

“It’s not an insult if it’s true. Anyway, we’re here to fight, not make friends.”

“I guess you’re right.” The man’s voice softened, but he didn’t stay silent for long. “What’s your name?”

Iwaizumi frowned as he answered. “Iwaizumi Hajime.”

“Iwaizumi Hajime!” he repeated all too enthusiastically. “I’m Tooru.”

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi started, “I can only assume you’re new to combat.”

“What makes you say that?” Tooru crossed his arms and took a step closer to Iwaizumi.

“Besides for the fact that you can’t fight, you seem kind of obnoxious.”

“There you are, being rude again!”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and continued watching the practice fights. He was content with being left alone, but Tooru wouldn’t stand down.

“How did you become a gladiator?” Tooru asked.

Iwaizumi shrugged before responding. “I fell into debt after the war. I figured selling myself to the city and fighting for entertainment would be less horrible than selling myself into servitude.”

“Ah, a soldier! That must be why you’re so tough, huh?” Tooru cooed.

Iwaizumi said nothing, he only just rolled his eyes again.

_Who was this guy?_

“Not used to the flattery? I’m sure the crowds love you.”

“I don’t really care what the crowds think as long as I’m winning. I’m just here to pay off my debt.”

Tooru must have been content with the response, as he hummed in reply. He continued to ask Iwaizumi questions every so often as the two watched the battles progress from the sidelines.

Iwaizumi would, only briefly, glance to the side at Tooru, who was watching the games intently and biting at his bottom lip.

“Why are you here?” It was Iwaizumi’s turn to ask questions, as his curiosity about the eccentric young man got the best of him. Tooru looked to Iwaizumi before answering, confused at first from being pulled from his concentration on the match.

“Oh! You know, I’m not from around here. I’m just trying to make some money.” Tooru’s answer was a common one from many of the gladiators at the school, but something about his chaste response left Iwaizumi on edge.

“You definitely came to the wrong place,” Iwaizumi replied. The corners of Tooru’s mouth perked up in a smile that was notably too soft.

“Don’t be so negative, I’m having so much fun already!” Tooru’s smile grew wider, which was telling of the fact that he was completely unaware of what he was getting himself into. Iwaizumi had never seen a new gladiator quite as naïve.

“Not that it’s any of my business- but if you have a better option than this life, I wouldn’t advise that you stay.” Iwaizumi could see Tooru’s smile deflate immediately after his words were spoken.

“I don’t.” Tooru looked down into the dirt, falling completely silent for the first time since he had spoken to Iwaizumi. He didn’t say anything more while the last few matches progressed, but he did remain by Iwaizumi’s side.

Eventually, the practice matches were over for the day, and it was time for the combatants to return to their quarters before the evening meal.

Iwaizumi picked up his armor and began to walk towards his lodging area when he heard a faint, _see you later, Iwa-chan_ behind him.

Iwaizumi turned to chase the voice and reprimand it for the obnoxious nickname, but when he turned around, the new gladiator was gone.

In that moment, Iwaizumi vowed that he’d really kick Tooru’s ass next time they went head to head in practice.

 

 

◊♦◊

 

 

Oikawa must have miscalculated the distance between his place atop the fence and the hard stone floor. When he fell, lacking his usual grace and dignity, his knee hit the ground hard and a large gash spread across his skin.

The scrape was just another thing he’d have to explain to his father.  

He cursed under his breathe and wiped at the dirt and blood with his robes. He then set out into the streets of the city, eager to make it back to the palace before anyone had noticed his absence.

He kept his head down as he traveled through the streets in fear that someone would recognize him.

Relief washed over him once sight of the palace came into view. It had become somewhat of a routine for him since he was young; he’d climb out of his bedroom window, creep through the garden, and climb over the fence so he could go wandering around the city.

He took the same route back into his room, and he did so seemingly undetected.

That is, until he tumbled through the window and saw two figures in his doorway before falling onto his back.

While lying on the floor, his eyes met with those of Hanamaki and Matsukawa, his personal guards.

“Be thankful that it was us who found you,” Hanamaki said with a smirk.

Oikawa sighed, annoyed but relieved to see the two guards above anyone else in the palace.

“Has father been looking for me?” Oikawa asked as he pulled himself up off the floor.

“Not yet. Did you forget that he’s holding a feast tonight?”

“Of course not,” Oikawa scoffed, “why would you think I had forgotten?”

“Because you look like hell. You know you’re bleeding, right?” Matsukawa said pointing to a spot right above his brow. Oikawa touched a hand to his forehead and wiped, leaving a faint trail of blood on his fingers. He then groaned, knowing that he needed to rush to the baths before he could show up to his father’s dinner party.

“The emperor and your cousins will be there, I suggest washing up.” Matsukawa then swiftly exited the room, presumably leaving to go gather the servants to escort Oikawa to the bath.

Oikawa didn’t need an escort, all he needed, _wanted_ , was to be left alone for more than a few minutes each day.

There were definitely worse guards to be stuck with than Hanamaki and Matsukawa. They were good company, but that didn’t mean that he always wanted to report back to them.

There was silence between he and Hanamaki for a moment, but the look in Hanamaki’s eyes said more than words could.

“Shut up,” Oikawa spat.

“I didn’t say anything~” Hanamaki smiled. “Don’t get upset with me when you’re the one who’s been sneaking out so much lately, even more so than usual.”

“Has father noticed?”

“Of course not, not yet anyway. You may want to start showing face around here, though. The wedding is soon.”

“I’m Oikawa Tooru, a _prince_ , I can do whatever I want,” Oikawa folded his arms and frowned at Hanamaki, whose grin had not wavered.

“Oh yeah? Tell that to your father. Or better yet your uncle, the _emperor_. I’m sure they’d both love to hear about where you sneak off to.”

“I know it’s your job to worry Makki-chan, but I was just stepping out for some air, nothing more. You know, you and Mattsun are really bad at your job,” Oikawa teased, sticking out his tongue.

Hanamaki sighed and turned to leave the room, as he was clearly tired of dealing with Oikawa’s testy nature for the day.

“Don’t keep your fiancé waiting tonight,” Hanamaki said with a wink before departing through the bedroom door.

Oikawa sighed and turned away, looking out towards the garden and wishing that he could flee again.

He really didn’t care about being a few minutes late to dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((chapter titles will all probably be based on lyrics from Hayley Kiyoko's song This Side of Paradise, just because I think the song is fitting for this story))
> 
> catch me on [tumblr](http://emotabek.tumblr.com) :)


	2. boys go on pretending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tooru muttered something under his breath but took Iwaizumi’s hand regardless. 
> 
> “Just you wait, with enough training I’ll surely be stronger than you!”
> 
> Tooru’s persistence was unnecessary, but admittedly endearing. Still, there’s no way Tooru could ever kick Iwaizumi’s ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm posting this chapter a little later than anticipated~  
> I'll be trying my best to post weekly! Enjoy :)

Oikawa never liked his father’s dinner parties.

In fact, he never liked spending much time around his parents, or any of his other relatives, at all.

It was sickening how much his parents idolized his uncle. Emperor Oikawa Ryota surely wasn’t the worst ruler to date, but he was overindulgent, lazy, and quite arrogant.

He had a complete disinterest in the affairs of the city and the people who lived there. The emperor’s main focus was on his lavish parties and finely crafted foreign jewelry, which was telling of the kind of man that he was.

Oikawa thought that it was important to be well versed in literature, the arts, science, sports, and local culture. His uncle couldn’t care any less about those things, all he cared about was his fortune and the successful continuation of his own lineage.

The emperor often referred to athletes as “men who were too lazy to fight for the state,” which was ignorant and insulting to the sportsman and to the military as a whole.

Tooru was feeling especially defensive on the topic of athletes after his afternoon trip to the gladiatorial school. Tooru was reprimanded that night when he arrived to dinner twenty minutes late with a small scrape across his eyebrow and bloodied knees. He didn’t care; the excursion was well worth it.

It was mesmerizing to watch the men train, and clearly a great amount of tact and skill went into their combat. The gladiator he had faced, Iwaizumi Hajime, was famous and Oikawa had recognized him right away. He was an ex-military commander who was undoubtedly talented, and not to mention ridiculously handsome.

In Oikawa’s opinion, Iwaizumi’s continued dedication to the people of their city was admirable. He chose to entertain the masses with his impressive athleticism after his military service instead of retreating to a life of discreet servitude.

Oikawa had no plans of ever entering the arena for real, but it was a lot more fun to get his ass kicked by gladiators in his free time than it was to sit in the palace and listen to his family blabber on about Egyptian linen or whatever the hell they were importing that day.

If Oikawa had to listen to his uncle act like he knew what he was talking about for another minute his entire body would probably combust.

Oikawa didn’t know when the conversation suddenly turned, he wasn’t listening, but suddenly all eyes were on him.

“Ah, Tooru, soon after the wedding you will be joining your father in the senate, correct? That is a respectable job for a young married gentleman like yourself.”

If Oikawa’s smile wasn’t convincing, no one made it apparent.

“Well, that seems to be the most comfortable option, doesn’t it?” Oikawa replied, mentally throwing daggers into his uncle’s face.

“Comfortable! Tooru, you’ll be one of the highest-ranking members, especially after serving as such a terrific magistrate. I can assure you that your position will be nothing less than luxurious,” Oikawa’s father replied, stuffing more food into his face.

Oikawa just smiled and nodded in response, as he always did.

He didn’t want to be a senator. What was the point of participating in the government when Oikawa was the most qualified in the family for the emperorship and yet was only third in line to the throne?

_Third in line._

Oikawa Tooru was no one’s third choice, not even if the emperor declared it so. _Especially_ if the emperor declared it so.

Oikawa had the ambition, the looks, the intelligence and charisma- all the qualities that a person would want of their ruler. His uncle and rotten cousins never really had what it takes.

Wakatoshi, the emperor’s adopted son, was chosen first in the line of succession.

He was adopted after his biological parents were murdered during a foreign invasion of the city. They were personal friends of the emperor, and for some reason Ryota felt an obligation to take the boy in.

Perhaps Wakatoshi was qualified for the emperorship, however Oikawa wouldn’t know because he barely ever spoke to him. He sat, stone faced, listening to and nodding in agreeance at the emperor’s every word. He was so _annoying_.

Tobio, the emperor’s biological son, was second in line to the emperorship. He was only ten years old, and already one of the biggest brats Oikawa had ever met. Despite the fact that Wakatoshi would usurp the emperorship way before Tobio could, it still got under Oikawa’s skin that a ten-year-old had more seniority to the title than his older, more mature, and much more qualified cousin.

Wakatoshi and Tobio were, by law, his cousins. That didn’t mean he had to like them.

Perhaps, if he really wanted, he could have his cousins poisoned and thrown into a river somewhere in order to secure the emperorship for himself. Makki and Mattsun would surely help.

The only person in the room who was more stoic and annoying than Wakatoshi was his darling, beloved fiancé.

Oikawa scoffed at the thought.

“Oh, Shimizu, we’re so excited for you to join out family!” Oikawa’s mother gushed, making the whole admission more of a scene than she needed to. “Remember, the gown that I picked out for you will be in tomorrow, and I must have the maids get you fitted. You’re going to look so beautiful!”

Shimizu simply nodded in response.

 _Poor girl_ , Oikawa thought, _not even in the family yet and my mother is already trying to bleed her dry of any power she has over herself._

It was pathetic _._

Shimizu was definitely beautiful, but she never said much of anything. Was she really that bland? Or was she pretending too, just like Oikawa was? He couldn’t tell, nor did he really care.

Tooru wasn’t interested in a marriage of convenience and hierarchy. He wasn’t interested in having his capabilities challenged and disregarded by everyone in his family.

With the wedding creeping up closer and closer, Oikawa didn’t know how much longer he could go on pretending that he was okay with the injustices his family laid upon him. Once he was married, he’d have obligations to a wife and family, and stuck in a government job where his only duty was to suck up to the emperor. His freedom was _not_ something he was ready to give up.

 

 

◊♦◊

 

 

The group training matches were always fun for Iwaizumi.

There was a constant clash of wooden swords and other weapons, men twisting, turning, dodging from every direction, and the exercise kept Iwaizumi more alert than any other.

It was what was most familiar to him after spending years in the military. At first it was difficult for him to adjust to his continued life of warfare and violence. The sound of metal scraping against armor often reminded him of his failures and of the blood shed from the men that he lost.

But Iwaizumi was a survivalist, and he knew he had to shake his past disappointments and keep on fighting.

To fall into obscurity after the war would have been a disrespect to his men and his city. He’d keep fighting until he couldn’t anymore.

Just one more month. Just one month and he could leave the violence and terror behind him. He’d be a free man, a legend in the city, and he’d be able to find peace somewhere out in the countryside.

For now, his only focus was maximizing his strength and winning in the arena.

Soon enough most of the other fighters in the practice battle had fallen, and it was only Iwaizumi and another gladiator who remained. Sawamura Daichi was a good fighter, as he was also an ex-military man. They had not been in the same legion, but their respect for each other as veterans had always been apparent.

Sawamura had no other protection besides for his spear and a small shield, while Iwaizumi was fully armed and holding his wooden sword. His opponent had an advantage, as the spear kept Iwaizumi at a distance, but it wasn’t long before Iwaizumi found a weak spot and took Sawamura down.

He aimed low and hit him at his legs, knocking him onto his stomach and causing him to lose the spear. Sawamura fell forward and enabled Iwaizumi to initiate the finishing blow. He acted as if he were stabbing his opponent in the chest through his back, and it was all over.

Iwaizumi helped his opponent up off the ground, and Iwaizumi could tell that Sawamura’s furrowed brow held no real contempt. The two shook hands and then made their way to the side of the arena in order to make way for the next group of combatants.

It was after Iwaizumi had stripped himself of his armor that he heard a familiar voice.

“Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi had almost forgot about that stupid nickname until now.

He turned and came face to face with Tooru, the man he defeated in his one-on-one training last week. He hadn’t see him since; Iwaizumi had assumed that Tooru realized he was too shitty of a fighter to stay in the gladiatorial school. Tooru was wearing armor, but much like last week, looked unpracticed and nearly perfect.

Tooru was wearing that blinding smile again, the one that looked as if he were attending some sort of spring celebration and picking flowers for a goddess rather than standing in a dirty practice arena.

“Hey,” was all Iwaizumi offered in response.

“You did great today!”

Iwaizumi didn’t bother responding to the compliment. “I’m surprised to see you, I thought you died or something.”

Tooru gasped and brought a hand to his chest. “Me? Dead? Never! I’ve got all the gods on my side, I’ll never die.” Iwaizumi scoffed, but Tooru continued on. “Were you worried?”

“Not in the slightest,” Iwaizumi deadpans.

“You know, you’re very mean, Iwa-chan,” Tooru teases. Iwaizumi was unfazed, and he paid little attention to Tooru as he turned to pick up a washcloth and wipe at the dirt on his face.

Just like the first time they interacted, Tooru wouldn’t back down.

“Hey, let’s fight right now!” Tooru yelled, grabbing the attention of the few other gladiators who were standing near them.

“What?”

“C’mon, I want to actually kick your ass this time,” Oikawa taunted, seeming, yet again, too confident in himself.

“Don’t be ridiculous, the next set of group training is up now,” Iwaizumi replied and rolled his eyes, and then attempted to walk away from the boisterous man.

“We can stay on the sidelines and just do a little sparring!”

“Are you serious?” Iwaizumi turned to glare at Tooru, accidentally giving him the satisfaction Tooru so craved.

Tooru nodded enthusiastically. “Of course I am! You’re the greatest gladiator here, aren’t you?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“You’d be surprised~” Tooru sung.

Iwaizumi sighed and turned his back to Tooru again. He didn’t verbally agree, but he could hear Tooru following close behind as he picked up his weapon and headed towards the edge of the practice arena.

Tooru must have picked up his armor on the way as well, because when Iwaizumi turned to face Tooru again he was similarly armed with a breastplate, shield, and wooden sword.

They got into their respective stances a few feet away from each other, and Iwaizumi took the lead with initiating the fight.

“Alright, hit me,” Iwaizumi said, moving to get into his own defensive position.

Tooru stared in confusion for a moment before his eyes lit up in excitement. As expected, Tooru raised the sword and aimed high, preparing to clash against Iwaizumi’s breastplate, right above his heart.

The blow, given enough force, would be enough to kill a man assuming he was caught off guard and not wearing armor. Iwaizumi, of course, knew better.

Before Tooru could land the blow, Iwaizumi swiftly side stepped the sword, and instead managed to aim low and kick Tooru in the back of his knees. The kick caused Tooru to fall to the ground, letting out a loud yelp.

Tooru looked up, awestruck at the sheer force and swiftness of the move, and Iwaizumi smiled at the little triumph.

With Tooru still in shock, Iwaizumi was able to straddle Tooru’s body and raise the wooden blade to his neck. In a real fight, all Iwaizumi would have to do was apply more force and swipe the blade across his neck, and his opponent would have been done for.

“What did you just do?” Tooru asked from the dirt while Iwaizumi grinned down at him ever so slightly.

“I knew you were going to aim high, which left you entirely vulnerable from the waist down on your unguarded side. The blow to the back of your knees was enough to fuck up your balance.”

“How did you know where I was going to hit you?” Tooru asked, and he sounded genuinely curious. Iwaizumi removed the sword from Tooru’s throat and peeled himself up and away from his body.

“Practice.” Iwaizumi held out his hand for Tooru to grab and helped hoist him off of the ground. “You’re not very subtle. Someone without much experience would choose that exact spot to strike first, given the chance.”

Tooru muttered something under his breath but took Iwaizumi’s hand regardless.

“Just you wait, with enough training I’ll surely be stronger than you!”

Tooru’s persistence was unnecessary, but admittedly endearing. Still, there was no way Tooru would ever kick Iwaizumi’s ass.

 

 

◊♦◊

 

 

The man on the ground was beaten and no longer capable of fighting, but nowhere near dead. The opponent was clearly no match for Iwaizumi, as was expected.

Iwaizumi was willing to kill if necessary, but seeing his opponents still breathing after an arena fight always gave him some peace of mind.

The roar of the crowd all around Iwaizumi often got overwhelming. Spectators loved him, but for how long?

Would the crowd still love him if he was the one bruised and bloodied lying on the dirt floor of the arena? Would they still love him if he lost? Would anyone?

Iwaizumi didn’t have the luxury of letting the words of his personal demons occupy space in his mind.

 _Fight, or die_ , Iwaizumi reminded himself. That’s all; he didn’t need to worry about what the masses would think if he let them down, again.

He was a perfect gladiator, and he’d stay that way until he earned his freedom.

Iwaizumi’s popularity was beneficial to both himself and the city as a whole. The more he won, and the more popularity he obtained, the more people would pay to see him fight. His service and that of the other gladiators and entertainers helped fund the city’s events; as long as he fought hard and won, the state could succeed and provide for their citizens.

This event in particular was one of the most important of the year. The games that took place were in celebration of the God of War, and victories made during this festival would ensure future military success for the empire.

Iwaizumi raised his fist in the air, and the crowd cheered at his triumph. He didn’t know what events took place at the God of War’s festival during the last year of his military service, but gods know that victories like these would have been useful to Iwaizumi back then.

He scanned the entirety of the crowd with his fist still raised. Some people threw flowers, colorful cloth, or other more questionable substances into the arena as a form of celebration and praise. Many ladies, and just as many men, flailed and fawned over Iwaizumi and his success.

As Iwaizumi’s eyes traveled the span of the crowd, his gaze fell upon the emperor and his guests.

The emperor gave him a small nod and nothing more, as was typical.

Iwaizumi wasn’t prepared for what he saw next.

As his eyes moved away from the emperor and towards the neighboring seats beside him, Iwaizumi’s eyes locked with Tooru’s.

_Tooru._

Tooru sat there, two seats to the emperor’s left wearing bright blue robes with a gold trim. His big brown eyes stared back at Iwaizumi, face immediately paling in comparison to the people around him.

Iwaizumi wondered if the shock on Tooru’s face mirrored that of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos n comments are always appreciated! 
> 
> catch me on [tumblr](http://emotabek.tumblr.com) :)


	3. settle on the dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You don’t know me,” Oikawa bit back. The words were laced with ice.
> 
> Iwaizumi’s face changed then into some indiscernible expression. No one said anything for a moment; the two just stood with their eyes fixed on each other, contemplative. 
> 
> “You’re a brat,” Iwaizumi finally replied, “but for you to come in here and beg to get beaten up on your own will… you must have some serious issues.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A consistent uploading schedule? More likely thank you'd think!  
> Also, peep that chapter count.

Iwaizumi had been hitting the wooden post with his sword for so long that his hands started to go numb. It had only been two days since the last arena battle, and his training regiment called for a few days off to recuperate.

But Iwaizumi was too fired up to even consider rest.

Speculation and anxiety had clouded Iwaizumi’s thoughts ever since his eye’s met Tooru’s in the arena the day before.

There was no rationalizing why Tooru had been sneaking into the gladiator school and provoking Iwaizumi to fight. Was he spying on someone? Was he spying on Iwaizumi? _Why?_

The confusion surrounding the situation kept Iwaizumi on edge, and he couldn’t even consider taking a rest day. Iwaizumi chose to train while the rest of the fighters drank, ate, and got their wounds patched.

Iwaizumi kept attacking the post, and he wasn’t sure how long he had been out there training. It could have been ten minutes, or twenty minutes, or even up to an hour; he was deep in his own thoughts and lost track of time.

“I think it’s dead,” a voice spoke not too far behind him.

Iwaizumi was suddenly jolted out of his trance. He turned around and saw Sawamura, who was holding out a wet rag and a jug of water.

Iwaizumi hesitated, but inevitably dropped the sword and took Sawamura’s offering with a grunt. Before anything else, he took a large swig from the water jug, not realizing how thirsty he was until the cool water touched his lips.

Iwaizumi then sat in the dirt, gulping down more water, and Sawamura took a seat close by.

“Ukai will reprimand you out if he finds you out here practicing,” Sawamura said. “Are you okay?”

Iwaizumi nodded. “I’m fine, just a little restless.” Iwaizumi then wordlessly offered the jug back to Sawamura, who politely shook his head.

“Is it about next month’s battle?” Sawamura didn’t explicitly mention Iwaizumi’s money or freedom, he didn’t have to. There was a lot of weight on Iwaizumi’s shoulders and the closer he got to that final battle, the more anxious Iwaizumi got.

But for once, Iwaizumi’s anxieties weren’t solely focused on his impending attempt at freedom. But rather the reckless young elite who, for whatever reason, kept picking fights with gladiators.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi lied, “just nervous about it.”

Sawamura laughed. “You don’t have to be, you’ve nearly earned it.”

Sawamura, having also been in the military, was one of the only gladiators in the school who could empathize with Iwaizumi’s situation. Sawamura was also looking to buy out his freedom, although he would have to spend more time fighting than Iwaizumi. Despite the encouragement, Iwaizumi felt that Sawamura was being too generous. Sawamura wasn’t there when Iwaizumi lost on the battlefield, he didn’t see how badly he had messed up.

Iwaizumi was paying for it now, and hopefully soon he’d be rid of the guilt.

The two sat in comfortable silence for a while. Iwaizumi offered up the jug to Sawamura again, and this time he took it. They passed the water back and forth without a word.

“Hey Sawamura, do you know Tooru?” Iwaizumi asked, finally breaking the silence.

Sawamura seemed to consider the name for a moment before shaking his head. “Who?”

“His name is Tooru, he attends the school. Brown hair, annoying.”

Sawamura chuckled a bit but shook his head. “I’ve never heard of him, why?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Iwaizumi sighed. Sawamura didn’t ask questions, and Iwaizumi was silently thankful.

“We’ve known each other long enough, you can call me Daichi, ya know.”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi replied. “Call me Hajime, then.”

Daichi answered with a small smile, and a firm pat on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

He’d miss Daichi when he left, if only a little.

 

 

◊♦◊

 

 

“Where do you think you’re going, princess?” Hanamaki asked Oikawa, who already had one leg hanging out of the window.

“Out,” Oikawa sung innocently.

Hanamaki had chosen the worst time to barge into his room. Oikawa knew that Hanamaki would never stop him from sneaking out, but the intrusion was still unwelcome.

Hanamaki just laughed and drew back the curtain that covered the doorway, shielding Oikawa’s room away from any more intruders.

“If you’re going out into he city again, can you at least pick up some milk bread for Issei and I on your way back?”

“Hm,” Oikawa replied, shrugging his shoulder. “I can’t promise anything, sorry.” He flashed Hanamaki a smile, and in turn Hanamaki shook his head.

“And I can’t promise that I won’t tell your father that you’re sneaking out right now,” Hanamaki challenged with arms folded across his chest.

“Makki, that sounds like blackmail. I could have you jailed for extorsion,” Oikawa teased.

“You won’t, idiot.” Hanamaki then turned to the side to peek out of the curtain again, and they were thankfully met with nothing but stillness from the hallway. “Don’t stay out too long, okay?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll return to you and Mattsun soon. Don’t miss me too much.”

“Oh, my heart will be breaking with every passing moment,” Hanamaki deadpanned. With that, Oikawa leaped out of the window and into the garden.

Oikawa took his usual route through the garden. It was a scenic walk; blue, white, and pink hydrangeas were abundant in this area of the garden. Oikawa had specifically requested these flowers to be planted outside his room when the palace was first built.

At eleven years old, he probably sounded as bratty as little Tobio with the request. But he had always loved hydrangeas, they were his grandfather’s favorite.

Oikawa had only a moment to marvel at his flowers because he saw two figures slowly approaching in the distance. He crouched down among the bushes and advanced a few feet to get a better look at who was potentially ruining his escape plans.

He ducked below a bush of white roses, accidentally scraping his arm on a few thorns. He ignored the scrapes and arranged himself so he could have a clear view. From his newfound position, Oikawa was able to peer through the bushes and see the distant figures.

When Oikawa’s eyes adjusted, he saw Shimizu and the dress maid.

The two had been working diligently on Shimizu’s wedding dress for the past week, according to the dress maid, whose name Oikawa never bothered to learn. She accompanied the family at dinner the other night, and the young blonde had gushed over how beautiful the pale blue dress complimented Shimizu’s porcelain skin.

The dress maid was flushed red as she spoke to Shimizu. She was looking down at her feet, fast-talking and ignoring his fiancé’s direct gaze.

_Huh._

Shimizu had just the smallest smile on her face as she reached to the side of herself and picked a white jasmine from a bush.  Her hand then came up to the dress maid’s shoulder, capturing her attention and causing her to turn and look at Shimizu. Shimizu then offered the flower to the other girl, and she accepted eagerly. The blonde pressed her face into the flower with a smile as Shimizu bent down and whispered something in her ear.

Oikawa was captivated at the sight of Shimizu with light pink dusting her cheeks and a smile, as was contrary to her usual emotionless façade. Oikawa almost didn’t want to turn away from the sight in front of him.

When the two began to advance through the garden, Oikawa regained his focus. He got an uneasy feeling that he walked in on something intimate, something she shouldn’t have been a part of.

Oikawa started to move again. He stayed low and made his way to the gate, out of his fiancé’s line of vision, and avoided interrupting whatever was going on in the garden.

Maybe Shimizu wasn’t so dull after all.

 

 

◊♦◊

 

 

It didn’t take long for Oikawa to find the gladiator’s practice arena. The first time he snuck in he had stumbled upon the school by accident. Now, he was making an effort to remember where the place was.

Going through the city undetected wasn’t too difficult for Oikawa. He didn’t know most civilians personally, and when he snuck out like this he always wore modest robes.

As he walked through the city, he remembered Iwaizumi’s face when he saw Oikawa in the stands a few days ago. It was undoubtedly a surprise for Iwaizumi to see him among the company of the emperor. Oikawa watched Iwaizumi’s face continuously shift, and he was able to tell when Iwaizumi’s expression turned from surprise, to shock, and then anger.

He had seen Iwaizumi fight in the arena before, but he didn’t anticipate being noticed in the crowd.

There was no way that Iwaizumi would appreciate seeing Oikawa at training again. The nervousness didn’t deter Oikawa, though. He had fun with the gladiators, and the athletics were both useful and entertaining for him. Admittedly, Oikawa knew little about combat, but he wanted to try keep training while remaining incognito.

However, now that Iwaizumi knew that Oikawa wasn’t a gladiator, he didn’t know how long his presence would go unnoticed. He’d have to avoid getting caught by Iwaizumi, even though he really wanted another opportunity to train with him.

Perhaps Iwaizumi had already complained to his coach, and the minute Oikawa stepped into the arena they would summon for the emperor.

His family would surely reprimand him, as if he couldn’t do what he pleased, as if he wasn’t royalty.

If Iwaizumi, or anyone else, had an issue with Oikawa attending the school, then that would be a damn shame. Oikawa did what he pleased regardless.

When Oikawa finally arrived, he snuck around the side of the building and found the same low wall that he climbed over the last two times he had visited.

He snuck into the entrance and made his way through the dim stone tunnels until he got closer to the arena. He was getting more familiar with the space, but it was still impossible for him to avoid taking a wrong turn.

Oikawa had finally made it out to the porch area that peered out into the open space of the practice arena. He looked out into the large area of dirt and saw the gladiators hard at work. Oikawa then walked further down the open porch until he reached a shallow patch of dirt. He dug through the manmade hole and found his stolen armor still buried. Oikawa figured it would be best to completely suit up before heading out into the middle of the practice space in case he ran into Iwaizumi.

Once fully covered, Oikawa quickly crept over to where a majority of the other gladiators were standing and observing, and he made it over thankfully unnoticed.

On one side of the arena, gladiators were sparring in hand on hand combat. On the other side, men were practicing the arts of different weaponry.

Oikawa spotted Iwaizumi on that side. The recognition was almost immediate, given that no one fought like Iwaizumi could.

He was bearing two swords, and his opponent was heavily armed and held only one sword.

The opponent was on the defensive due to his abundance of protection, and Iwaizumi was slashing at him with both swords. It took an impressive amount of skill to be able to handle a sword in both hands at the same time. Oikawa watched in awe at Iwaizumi’s impressive and swift movements.

Iwaizumi tired his defensive partner out, and he was slow to side step Iwaizumi’s next move. Iwaizumi was able to knock the opponent on the ground and go in for the finishing blow, which was one blade hovering over the heart and the other fake-slashing at the neck.

Watching Iwaizumi practice was incredible; but seeing him in the arena was even more spectacular. Out there, Oikawa could tell that Iwaizumi put his entire being into the arena as he fought. Oikawa had never met anyone like him.

“Hey,” a voice called from close beside. Oikawa turned and was faced with a lightly armed gladiator.

“Me?” Oikawa jumped.

“Yeah you, skinny guy.” Oikawa puffed out his chest. Were all gladiators this rude? “Ya wanna spar?”

Oikawa didn’t recognize the guy, which meant that his fighting was nowhere near impressive enough to catch the young prince’s attention. Oikawa was one of the only unoccupied fighters nearby, which was probably why this guy asked him to spar.

Or maybe he just seemed like an easy target.

“Oh,” Oikawa hesitated, “sure!”

The guy shared no more words with Oikawa, and they walked over to an open area to practice.

Oikawa was unfamiliar with pre-fight formalities, but this guy seemed content just to say _go_ and start the fight.

He was fast and certainly strong, but his movements weren’t very coordinated. He moved with reckless abandon, looking to destroy as opposed to skillfully defeat his opponent. Oikawa was able to dodge only once before he was taken down. This guy didn’t even need to come at him with his sword, his speed alone was too much for Oikawa.

Oikawa was knocked to the ground, his head hitting the dirt so hard he saw stars.

His opponent didn’t offer his hand to help Oikawa up when their short practice was done.

It took Oikawa a minute to get back on his feet and readjust. His head throbbed from the fall to the ground despite wearing a helmet.

Oikawa sluggishly walked over to the side of the arena where the majority of the resting gladiators were standing, rubbing at his head while he fumbled with his sword and helmet in his other hand. He then dropped the armor and grabbed an unoccupied jug of water. After chugging for a minute, Oikawa wiped his mouth and set the jug down.

Oikawa then turned to look out into the practice arena to continue watching the other fights. His eyes scanned the crowd and his gaze fell over to where Iwaizumi once was, now nowhere to be found. Oikawa shrugged to himself and turned his back to grab the water jug again.

But when Oikawa turned, there was someone standing directly behind him, glaring.

“Ah! Iwa-chan,” Oikawa spit out casually, although he could feel his pulse begin to race. “How are you?”

Iwaizumi didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed Oikawa by the wrist and dragged him away. He led Oikawa over to the very edge of the arena and into the open porch that led back to the living quarters. Iwaizumi didn’t look very pleased.

“Iwa-chan, you don’t have to pull so hard! My head hurts from all this training, how about you lighten up?”

“Lighten up,” Iwaizumi growled once they were a few paces into the hallway and away from the eyes of the gladiators. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? I’m a gladi-” Oikawa was cut off immediately.

“Shut the fuck up, we both know you’re not.”

Oikawa sighed. “You’re right, I guess my incredible undercover skills didn’t fool you.”

Iwaizumi let out a bitter laugh. “Why are you here?”

“Why so hostile?” Oikawa whined. Iwaizumi definitely didn’t like that.

Iwaizumi didn’t seem like he was in the mood for playing pretend today. He shoved Oikawa into the wall beside them and held his forearm to Oikawa’s throat.

“ _Who_ are you and _why_ are you here?” Iwaizumi asked again, less patient now.

“You know, you could get into serious trouble for roughhousing the emperor’s nephew like this.”

“Emperor’s nephew?” Iwaizumi’s question sounded more like a fearful reiteration rather than anything else.

“That’s right! I’m Oikawa Tooru, nice to meet you officially, Iwaizumi Hajime.” Oikawa’s confidence made Iwaizumi back off only just a bit. Iwaizumi removed his arm from Oikawa’s throat, but remained in his menacing stance in front of Oikawa.

“Why are you here?” Iwaizumi asked again.

“So many questions,” Oikawa sung. “I just wanted to get out of the house, you know? Take up a sport, get a little roughed up, normal prince stuff.”

“You’re so full of shit. I barely know you and I can tell that you’re full if it.”

Oikawa sighed, genuinely annoyed. He didn’t like that Iwaizumi was trying to dig deeper.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Oikawa breathed out, his mask of glamour fading.

“Oh yeah?” Iwaizumi challenged. He then backed off a bit, giving Oikawa more room to breathe.

“Everything is so exhausting, Iwa-chan.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, but Oikawa continued. “Do you know how annoying it is to have a government position? All you do is kiss the emperor’s ass and convince other people to do the same,” Oikawa sighed and sunk down into the wall.

Iwaizumi didn’t say anything, he just waited for Oikawa to continue.

“Oh, and the marriage.” Oikawa groaned and threaded a hand through his hair. He didn’t care if he was being dramatic. “They expect me to marry this lifeless doll, she’s so boring. I’m only third in line to the throne, why am I expected to marry who my father chooses? It doesn’t matter!”

“Third in line?” was Iwaizumi’s only response.

“Yeah, I can’t believe it either! Third in line, behind a wooden fucking post and a ten-year-old germ. I’m a prisoner in my own home!”

“You may be a slave to your family, but not to the empire.”

“My family is the empire.” Oikawa muttered bitterly. He must have said something even worse than before because Iwaizumi looked ready to come at his throat again.

“You know, you’re a real fucking brat. A spoiled brat with too much time on his hands.”

Oikawa frowned, eyebrows furrowing. Who did Iwaizumi think he was?

Sure, Iwaizumi was strong, skilled, and brave, and he could probably murder Oikawa right there in three seconds without even putting up a fight.

Still, he knew _nothing_. Nothing about who Oikawa really was.

“You don’t know me,” Oikawa bit back. The words were laced with ice.

Iwaizumi’s face changed then into some indiscernible expression. No one said anything for a moment; the two just stood with their eyes fixed on each other, contemplative.

“You’re a brat,” Iwaizumi finally replied, “but for you to come in here and beg to get beaten up on your own will… you must have some serious issues.”

“Hey!”

“You’re running from your problems. You’re clearly hurting.”

Oikawa’s breath hitched. To have someone, a _stranger_ , see right through him was terrifying.

Oikawa needed to change the subject _immediately_.

“Are you going to report me to your arena coach?” Oikawa asked, defeated.

Iwaizumi shook his head, and Oikawa could feel a certain weight lifted off his shoulders.

“I won’t tell Ukai. Whatever reason you have for being here, it’s none of my business. I’m not going to tell you what you should or shouldn’t be doing. It’s your life, whatever.”

“Thank you.” Oikawa was able to let some of the tension slip from his soldiers. He sighed and rubbed at his head again, the pain only subsiding slightly since getting tackled minutes before.

“I have one condition to my silence,” Iwaizumi said, and Oikawa’s lips perked up into a smile at the prospect of this entire situation becoming a whole lot more interesting. “If you’re gonna sneak in here, you’re gonna have to act like a gladiator. You have to train, you have to learn how to fight.”

Oikawa’s lips spread into a full smile now, eyes sparkling with both appreciation and mischief. He stretched out his hand, requesting for Iwaizumi’s in return.

“You got it, Iwa-chan. I can’t wait to kick your ass.”

Iwaizumi’s lips perked up too. He reached out, clasping his hand in Oikawa’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos n comments are appreciated! <3
> 
> follow me on [tumblr](http://emotabek.tumblr.com) for updates :D


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